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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873483">Beautiful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxicab12/pseuds/taxicab12'>taxicab12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>more to me than you can dream [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kisses, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, but only for a minute then</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:53:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873483</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxicab12/pseuds/taxicab12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicolò felt his face go red with embarrassment. He had never known Yusuf to be cruel, except for when they’d been killing each other, but there was nothing else that statement could be. Lately, he’d been convinced that Yusuf was a test from God, so it only made sense that he was cruel.</p><p>“Do not mock me,” Nicolò said, his heart pounding.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>more to me than you can dream [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>652</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beautiful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You are beautiful,” Yusuf said in quiet Genoese, watching Nicolò from where he sat, leaned up against the tree.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò felt his face go red with embarrassment. He had never known Yusuf to be cruel, except for when they’d been killing each other, but there was nothing else that statement could be. Lately, he’d been convinced that Yusuf was a test from God, so it only made sense that he was cruel.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Do not mock me,” Nicolò said, his heart pounding. Had Yusuf seen the way Nicolò watched him and been disgusted? Had he merely woken up frustrated and decided to take it out on him?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Mock you?” Yusuf stood, switching to Arabic. “Perhaps my command of your language is not as good as I thought. I had no intent to mock you. I said you were beautiful.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know what you said.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yusuf nodded slowly. “Then I will not say it again.” His face was surprisingly kind, almost insulted, and Nicolò turned away.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yusuf didn’t mention the brief argument for two days, instead letting it tear him apart inside as he reworked his view of Nicolò again and again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">One minute, he was sure this was a misunderstanding, the next, he thought Nicolò would hate him if he knew the depth of Yusuf’s thoughts about him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Then, he caught Nicolò staring at him, a longing glance from the other side of their small room.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">At this point, they had known each other nearly thirty years, and Yusuf had seen that stare more than a few times over the years. He’d even begun to think he knew what it meant, what Nicolò must be feeling.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He almost stopped himself from speaking, and this desire to stay silent meant that he merely said “What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò jumped, surprised, and looked away. “What?” He asked in return.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I am not allowed to call you beautiful,” he said, before he could stop himself, “but you are allowed to look at me like that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’d rather you say nothing than lie to me, Nicolò,” Yusuf said.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He didn’t know what to expect, hatred or denial or laughter, but Nicolò shattered those expectations anyway, letting out a single sob.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t hate me,” he said. “Please, Yusuf.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He stood, sitting beside him. “How could I ever hate you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò looked away again and Yusuf finally realized that it was not because he didn’t want to look, only because he was ashamed to. He did not know much about Christians, but he realized, or maybe remembered, that this would not be something they would allow.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Nicolò,” he said softly, then just “Nico.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò looked up at that name, one Yusuf had only used a handful of times over the years. He was not crying, but looked to be on the verge of it.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You are beautiful, Nicolò,” he said. “I swear I mean that with all my heart.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yusuf—“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I want nothing more than to kiss your sweet lips,” he said, a confession he could never take back. “If I am what you want, I am yours.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò began to cry, just a little. “I... I did not even let myself imagine that you felt this way about me. Yusuf, I... I do not have the words.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You do not need words, my love,” he said, tilting his head towards the other man.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò kissed him like the fate of the world depended on it, his hands cupping Yusuf’s face like it would save his life.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yusuf,” he said when he pulled away. “I’m sorry I assumed you were mocking me. I just... I could not bear the pain of you hating me, of you leaving me. I would have preferred to watch you in silence for a millennia.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We may very well have a millennia ahead of us. You may watch me for as much of it as you wish, though I do not want you to be silent.” Yusuf’s hands were trembling. “I will never leave you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò kissed him again, though this time felt less desperately urgent.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You are beautiful,” Yusuf said. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I thought so even when you killed me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’ve felt this way all this time?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I did hate you at first.” He smiled. “You were my enemy. You can hate someone and think they’re beautiful. But it did not take me long to feel like this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And you waited for me?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I would have waited a millennia for a single kiss from you, my love.” Yusuf kissed him this time.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò smiled into his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò woke in Yusuf’s arms, feeling more at peace than he ever remembered being. Though they had done nothing but kiss and curl up together, it felt as if Yusuf had given Nicolò every piece of himself. The frantic part of himself said it had only been a dream, but Yusuf’s hand wrapped around his waist proved otherwise.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hmmm?” Yusuf asked, stirring. “What time is it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Early morning still.” Nicolò took Yusuf’s hand and kissed it. “And we have nowhere to be.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“The only place I am supposed to be, Nicolò, is at your side.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Your words have always been poetry, but I have to say I like them better when they’re about me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You will hear lots more of them,” Yusuf promised him. “But right now I have to pee.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nicolò laughed as Yusuf left him, laying back with a smile and an eternity of love before him.</span>
</p>
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